


Shadows of Interest

by AKMars



Category: Dark Shadows (1966), Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural, Crossover, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-25
Updated: 2012-11-07
Packaged: 2017-11-17 00:04:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/545297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AKMars/pseuds/AKMars





	1. Gathering Dusk

Title: Shadows of Interest  
Chapter: Gathering Dusk  
Genre: Dark Shadows/Person of Interest Crossover (sort of)  
Rating: M to Extreme M  
Warnings: Slash, Explicit Violence, Supernatural, Explicit Sexual Encounters, NonCon-DubCon in future chapters.  
Pairing: Finch/Reese

NOTES: I lay all the blame for what is going to be a strange foray into my very, very dubious psyche on kmmerc’s recent cross-over fics (especially Planet of the Apes...thanks, like I needed to start yet _another_ story, lol). These coupled with marathon viewings of the original television series has percolated through my brain and morphed into this. A smidge of responsibility does of course rest with the fact that Halloween is just around the corner. Stay tuned. (Shadows of Interest is an AKMars production.... ;P)

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_My name is John Reese. The city of New York as we know it has stood for over four hundred years. Many changes have taken place in this metropolis; enough so that what was once pastoral coastline has evolved into arguably the most vibrant and well-known urban center in the world._

_It has many names; 'The Big Apple', 'The Empire City', 'Gotham'. One man resides there and though surrounded by millions resembling himself, he is alone. For that man it will always be 'The City That Never Sleeps'. One who walks in the depths of night as does he, can only exist in such a place as this; at such a time as the present. I know this because that man is closer to me than any other being could ever hope to be._

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With a final blaze of molten copper-red the sun disappeared behind the Manhattan skyline. Dusk slithered across the city, worming its way into every street and alley; covering each building from towering skyscraper to humble tenement with its shroud. It smothered all five boroughs, its all encompassing embrace relieved only by the neon and halogen of artificial illumination. 

As the last fiery rays faded from the library windows the figure of a tall, strong man ascended the steps from the building’s main entrance. The man was in his mid-forties but fitter and more alert than most half his age. His frame though lean, was muscular; toned from physical labor rather than useless posturing in a gym. His black hair was graying at the temples; his eyes a clear blue that seemed to dissect anyone or thing that caught his interest or look right through those that did not. 

That gaze was at present directed into the middle distance; for his feet were walking a path they had trod so often that he could do it blind. Sight was superfluous to him in the abandoned library that had first been his refuge, then later workplace and home. 

The man strode through the cavernous reading room, navigating the back hallways until he came to a non-descript door at the end of one corridor. Pulling out a keyring, he selected one seemingly at random and opened the lock. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. Reaching out, his fingers closed around the heavy silver candlestick perched on a table next to the doorway. Coaxing a flame from the platinum cigarette lighter he’d brought with him, the man illuminated the candle and moved across the room to stand at the side of an enormous four poster bedstead. 

The soft glow of candlelight washed over the figure ensconced in the oversized bed. It was a man...thin, almost fragile and to all appearances asleep. The tall man in black gazed down at the other’s face; his eyes taking in every detail of the aristocratically arched brows, aquiline nose and sensitive lips. A sigh escaped him, barely audible even in the tomblike silence of the room. He stilled as the older man’s eyes flickered open, pupils moving in an unerring track to lock with the watcher’s. The thin man smiled up at his companion, licking his lips. 

_“John...”_

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And so it begins..... 


	2. Darkness Emerges

Title: Shadows of Interest  
Chapter: Darkness Emerges  
Genre: Dark Shadows/Person of Interest Crossover (sort of), supernatural  
Rating: M to Extreme M (slash, violence, non/con & dub/con in future chapters)  
Pairing: Finch/Reese  
Word Count: 1480

NOTES: Updating for this story may be slow going. I‘m trying to wrap up several longer works that are in progress before I head out too much on this tangent. For now, enjoy! (Shadows of Interest is an AKMars production.... ;P)

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_My name now is Harold Finch. I have had many others over time, as well as many homes. Where I came from and how I became what I am are stories for another day. Let me say merely that from surviving great trials and sorrow came the strength to endure my not-life...my dark existence in the shadows of the world. Strange that now I have found one who has brought a spark of warmth to my long shuttered heart._

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"John..." Harold's voice was full of welcome, his blue-gray eyes alight with happiness. "Sit, please."

Reese lowered his tall frame onto the bed, stretching out beside the older man; his own face reflecting the contentment of the other. He pressed his lips to Finch's forehead. "Good evening."

"And to you." Harold rested his face against John's cheek, reveling in the warmth of Reese's skin; in the heat of the blood coursing through the younger man's veins. Finch could smell it, rich and metallic; so vital, so _alive_. He felt the tips of his fangs lengthen instinctively and kept his mouth closed as he kissed his companion. 

John was many things to the reclusive genius; friend, partner, protector and lover but he would never, even to save his own life, allow Reese to become prey. That he shared blood with Reese was an affirmation of the bond between them; however for Finch to consider John _etel_ was unthinkable.

"Is there any news?"

John shook his head, kissing Finch's temple and cheek. "All is well. There's no number that needs our attention. You should go out, you've got to feed."

"And so I do." Harold took one of Reese's hands in his own; holding it close and pressing a kiss against the pulse point of his wrist. "But _your_ safety," he mouthed the corded muscle and tendons beneath their thin covering of skin "comes first."

John rolled over so that he lay half on top of Harold, his breath quickening as Finch's tongue snaked out, laving his wrist with gentle adoration. Reese watched, his mouth half open in anticipation as the billionaire bared his fangs and bit down hard. John hissed in pleasure as warmth spread throughout his being; a flowing river of heat emanating from the wound in his arm and coursing its way straight to his belly. 

Reese's hips bucked, rubbing against Finch's pelvis and he moaned as Harold's free hand cupped him through his dress slacks. The recluse made an amused sound as he stroked his partner's hardness. The sensations grew more intense and just as John was teetering on the edge, Finch's mouth pulled away. He licked John's wound a couple of times then released his hand. 

_"Harold....please!"_

Finch kissed John's forehead. "Shhh.....patience, _a szívem_. You know I will take care of you." 

Harold cradled the younger man to him, unbuttoning his own shirt and pulling it aside. His pale chest almost gleamed in the candlelight, its covering of brown and silver hair forming an auburn halo around his torso. Finch stroked himself, tracing the outline of his nipple with a nail that lengthened into a claw.

Harold’s finger jerked once, piercing his chest and dark blood welled up from the cut. Reese moaned again; leaning in to press his mouth over the puncture. As he swallowed, John’s pent up need overflowed and he came hard; thrusting into Finch’s side. 

As his body trembled in reaction, Reese raised his head. He watched the cut heal itself, leaving no trace of the injury on the pale skin. Reese regarded his own wrist, perfectly intact with no indication of the wound he’d received from his partner.

John felt exhilarated; full of energy and stamina. That Finch would willingly give this gift to him humbled Reese every time they shared blood. He still couldn’t believe how his life had changed in a scant two years.

Harold watched his partner, easily reading the man’s thoughts reflected in John’s expressive face. The older man’s smile was indulgent. Thanks to the bond they shared, he could feel Reese’s arousal and orgasm...even as he could the strength now coursing through the tall man’s body. John’s presence at his side was a treasure beyond any other the world could offer Finch. In a short two years; a mere blink of the eye to one of his kind, Harold had left behind the loneliness of his dark existence. He’d been elevated to a state of happiness he’d not thought to feel ever again.

Finch held his partner close for a few moments more before the stirring need in his chest grew too strong to ignore. Sensing the hunger through their bond, John released Harold and slipped off of the bed.

“Let me change and I‘ll call the up car. Where would you prefer to go tonight?”

The slender man got to his feet and began removing his loose shirt. “To the Village I think...”

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_Through bitter trial and error during the early years of his transformation, Finch had learned that the way to increasing his financial independence was by establishing businesses that could virtually run themselves; such as his insurance firm or enterprises that operated after the sun set; clubs, theatres and restaurants._

_Even IFT could be monitored remotely and after normal business hours...no one at the company thought it strange that top brass were never seen. Computer programmers’ could and did do their work at all hours, even from home._

_The software corporation’s board knew that Ingram had handed off operations to his ’silent, reclusive partner’ years ago; they had been well trained to respond to emailed instructions and the occasional telephone conference when absolutely necessary. Money did, as Finch often said, buy privacy._

_The other reason for investing heavily in the entertainment/hospitality industry was the client base. For Finch it meant a ready supply of candidates to pick and choose from, all in his literal hand. Unlike others of his kind, he did not have to skulk the back alleys and dark streets in search of etel. Prey came to him, in droves, every evening. All he had to do was select a different venue each night._

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The sleek, black Towne Car navigated the uptown streets with ease. Traffic at this time of the evening had died down; although where the automobile was heading, the clubs and cafés would still be packed with people.

The _Cerulean Cetacean_ was a small supper club on the corner of Perry and Hudson, just on the fringes of Greenwich Village. It was decorated in the style of the early 40s, with a twist of art-deco thrown in for good measure. The palette of greens, blues and cream paired well with the architectural features of the main room. A large bar took up most of the front wall; facing the elevated platform at the opposite end. The stage was currently occupied by a six piece combo performing very smooth, period jazz. 

The longer sidewalls were filled with half-circle booths, most just big enough for couples or foursomes. The corner booths were larger to accommodate a group of friends. All of the seating was upholstered in luxurious, peacock blue velvet; the tables were polished mahogany. The room was mostly given up to a parquet hardwood dance floor; empty for the moment as the club’s patrons were enjoying their drinks or appetizers. 

The atmosphere and music offered at the _Cetacean_ appealed to a more mature age range of clientele. This more sedate venue suited Finch’s mood tonight. The Towne Car pulled up to the rear entrance and Reese got out first; scanning the vicinity for any possible threat to his companion. Satisfied that all was well, he nodded to the driver who opened the car door for his employer.

The reclusive billionaire emerged, his graphite gray suit gleaming beneath the artificial lights above the club’s back door. A cobalt silk tie and sterling cufflinks were his only ornamentation to the well-tailored garments. In one hand he gripped the gold-washed silver handle of a fine ebony walking stick. The cane’s handle ended in a bowed, snarling wolf’s head.

Reese opened the alley door and allowed the older man to step inside first. He tipped the driver generously, murmuring instructions that would ensure his timely arrival when called for. John locked the club entrance behind him and followed behind his partner.

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NOTES: _etel_ -literally translated means food; _a szívem_ \- ‘my heart’. A term of endearment. Both are of Hungarian derivation. As to the name of the nightclub...how could I legitimately call it anything else? lol


End file.
